Reporting for the Daily Prophet
by Ronnis
Summary: On hold because of revisions. Read it if you just want it to abruptly stop.
1. Chapter 1, Enter Lily Evans, journalist

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only the things you don't recognize.

Reporting for the Daily Prophet

"-Aurors reported that a handful of Death Eaters had been caught, but not all the ones in the attack. The reported Death Eaters are Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr., and two others whose names have been disclosed from the media. For more information, turn to page A7." I finished writing my article, setting my quill down. I had three more hours to edit, double edit and send in to my editor, so he could edit and place it in the paper.

I picked up my quill again, and started to reread through my article.

Two hours and three quills later, I stood up, stretched my legs, picked up my article and headed to my boss's office. I could have just sent it to him, but from sitting all day, I felt I needed to get up and walk. I knocked on his door.

"Come in."

I opened the door and walked in. "Here's my article, I've been through it a few times, it should be ok."

"I'm sure it will be wonderful! But I do have some news, it could be bad, could be good, depends on your point of view. I'm going to have to send you to the sports department, they're lacking a lot of people right now, and they asked for someone to report for them, and I decided to send you."

I'm not stupid, I got his hidden message. Being sent to the sports department is one of the worst insults ever. The sports department of the Daily Prophet is absolutely HORRID! They send the people they're going to get rid of there. I don't know what my boss had against me, I never did anything wrong, everything I was supposed to. But, you know what; it'll be nice to get out of this rat trap anyway! I don't care! I've never liked it here anyway, all the depressing news going around with Voldemort.

Maybe it's because I use his name in my reports my boss is sending me away. I think that is entirely stupid, fear of a name increases fear of the person, and that's just what Voldemort wants.

Any case, I'm leaving this place, sent to the sports department. I'll just make the best of my last days at the Daily Prophet.


	2. Chapter 2, Enter James, star seeker

I actually like it here in the sports department, everyone's nice, there's not much competition (None at all actually), and I love it that way. Everyone's friends with each other, we have so much fun. Right now, I'm writing an article on the Chudley Cannons, who, in fact, to put it bluntly, stink to the moon. But everyone loves them anyway.

My boss is the friendliest person ever, she was in the Arts & Entertainment department earlier, so she knows a lot about what people like and hate. She's a wonderful person.

Sheryl (My boss) just asked if I wanted to go get a butterbeer with her at the Leaky Cauldron. I tell her I'll be there in a moment.

I grab my coat, the November air is really chilly, but I rather like it. We decide to walk there, instead of apparating; I never really liked it, it always gives me a funny feeling inside my stomach, like I've just swallowed poison or something (Not that I ever have).

Tom, the bartender, comes up to us. "What would you ladies like?"

"Two butterbeers please."

"Coming right up!"

Pretty soon, two warm butterbeers are sitting on our table, while Sheryl and I are talking about... well, just general stuff. Pretty soon, it gets to the Prophet.

"We've always had a shortage of people in the S.D. I don't see why people don't like it here..." Sheryl says.

"I know! I should've come much earlier." I agree.

"Yeah, but anyway, since we have so little people, I'm going to have to ask you to go out on the field for one of the Magpie games, then interview one of the players, at the end of the game, I'm not sure who we can get to interview, a lot of them try to hide from the media. Is that ok? I know you've never done a field report... On a quidditch field at least."

Days later, after my talk with Sheryl, I'm getting ready to go to the game, which is as Sheryl said that day, my first field report on a quidditch field. I've done other field assignments, if fact, I've fought against quite a few Death Eaters, but I have a feeling this field assignments going to be a heck of a lot easier.

I've also got a feeling that this assignment is a lot like the ones I would see with my father of the Boston Patriots, whose sister would send us tapes of; she was really excited when they first started playing in1960, she taped all of the football games (While she lived). I loved watching the reporters on the field, and tried to mimic everything they did. Since the magic world doesn't have TVs, this is the closest I'll ever be.

What I don't get is why the Americans called it football? I mean, they barely even use their feet in the game, only the punter and field goal kicker, most of the time it's in their hands. They should call it handball or something like that. And what's with the word soccer? Soccer? You use your feet in soccer, so it only makes sense to call it football, but where in the world did they come up with the word soccer? I guess it doesn't matter, since I'm not part of the muggle world anymore, but I guess it always ticked me off in some way.

Anyway, I just apparated outside the quidditch field. I flash my badge to the security guard, and he lets me through. I follow the signs that say "Press Box" and soon I am seated at the end of the row, next to a man who's working for the Quibbler.

The game started out with me writing furiously on my paper, stating who passed to who, who blocked who, and all that other stuff. While one of the Magpie chasers was meandering up the field, dodging bludgers on the way, I realized that I could do a copying charm from my voice to the paper. Soon, instead of writing my arm off, I'm whispering what's happening and it's appearing on my paper.

I had totally forgotten that I was a witch, which is a horrible thing to do.

45 minutes later, 20 more goals for the Magpies, 5 more goals for the Wasps (The opposing team), the seeker, James Potter (Yeah, I remember him from Hogwarts, the little bugger) pulled into a fast dive, the opposing seeker on his trail, he pulls a Wronskei Feint, and rises up with the golden snitch neatly stored in his hand, while the opposing seeker crashed onto the ground, quite hard.

10 minutes have gone by, and all the stands and press boxes have emptied, I'm supposed to wait for my interviewee by the field sideline benches. I decide to make my way down there, better early than on time, which was my mother's motto.

She was always dragging us hours earlier to family parties than we really needed to be, she had set our clocks fast so that we would look and think we were late, but really we were early, which was good thing too, because it practically saved my life at Hogwarts.

And again, it was a good thing, because as soon as I arrived there, I saw my interviewee making his way down to the benches.

The sun is in my eye, so I can't really make out who the person is, he's tall, very tall actually, has black hair, I think, it might be brown, I can't tell.

I stick out my hand, introducing myself. "Hi, I'm Lily Evans, reporting for the Daily Prophet, I was asked to interview- POTTER?"

The hair gave it all away. As soon as he stepped closer, I could see the messy black hair, still windblown from his dive, sticking up all over the place. And those glasses. The glasses helped too.

He laughed. "Well at least I don't have to introduce myself. Yeah, I got an owl earlier, asking if I would do this interview, and since I hadn't been asked in ages, I decided I would take it, besides, everyone is looking for me outside. It's nice to get away from them."

"Yes, well anyway, I'm going to start asking questions now," He nods his head, "The first goal of the game, belonging to the Magpies, the formation the chasers used, was that practiced before, or did it just happen?"

"The chasers had been working on that formation for a while, it was extremely difficult, but coach helped them through, I'm glad it worked so well today, sometimes we try it and it ends us going to the other team."

And that's the way it went, I was surprised. I thought it was going to be a nightmare, I mean, interviewing James Potter! James Potter, the arrogant, stuck-up, show off, being well, a team player and reasonable! I was astonished, blown away, flabbergasted, bowled over, and well, you get the picture.

I got back to my cubicle and started writing my article, even though it was Sunday. I wanted to get this article over with, while I was alone, instead of people always badgering me about being able to interview _the_ James Potter, because it was a great feat to accomplish.

I wrote my basic outline, and decided to leave it at that, I'd come in later and finish it. That was thing I hated the most about being a journalist. Your time limit. I hate being rushed, it makes my writing worse. It's why I've always written my article as soon as I get the information.

It's now 3:00, the game lasted about an hour and a half, my interview an hour, let's see, that's two and half hours, 20 galleons an hour, that's 50 galleons, plus the hour I spent writing my draft, 70 galleons. Wow. I wonder if it counts as overtime...

I decide to leave; I lock up the department, and head out, back to my flat in muggle London.

I'm going to write a letter to Sheryl, telling her how the game went, about the interview and all that nice stuff.

I call over my owl, Artemis, pen my letter and send her off to Sheryl's house in a small wizarding village.

After dinner, I get a reply.

_Dear Lily,_

_I'm glad to hear that your interview went well. I was psyched when Mr. Potter agreed to an interview. I wrote another owl to him, asking him if he would like to do the same thing after every game. I'm waiting for his reply. If he does say yes, would you be the one who does the interview? I already wrote that you would, and since I'm your boss (haha) if you don't want to, I'll make you. _

_This is a great achievement for the S.D, and if he does say yes, the whole Prophet will be at our feet, the sky's the limit, Lily my friend! The sky's the limit!_

_I hope your doing well,_

_Sheryl._

S.D stands for Sports Department, for those, like me, who cannot for the life of them figure out what acronyms stand for.


	3. Chapter 3, quidditch and the nest

About the names of the quidditch players: Some of them are a lot like trees, it's because I was working on this during science, and my "team" is on "reading the landscape" and we were talking about Forest Composition, so trees were the things that was on my mind.

And thanks to ZumZumZoo for the review!

* * *

Sheryl wanted me to do this EVERY SUNDAY? Every Sunday of my journalism career interviewing James Potter about the quidditch game?

But as more and more Sundays passed, I found myself looking forward to the interviews; I had my own special spot in the sports section called "The Magpies Nest." My collogues and I call it "Lily's Corner," even though it's shared equally between James and I.

I was very happy about that.

And even though I was in the S.D., I still took time to go through the current events; before they got published (The Prophet could destroy so many facts). I must have missed one of the major ones, because after my 5th interview with James, on my desk I found a memo.

_To all the staff and personnel:_

_Due to a Ministry decree, inventors have been working on a magic TV, in what they call "A hope to better understand the ways of the muggles." Ministry officials have been working to introduce small muggle things to better the bridge between both communities. Whether or not it is working, is yet to be seen._

_Since the _TVS_ are being sent out, the Ministry has been asking for different types of channels. The Daily Prophet now has its own news station, WWMPN. _

_A message to all editors!!_

_Please pick two out of your department to work as anchors as the news reporters. A packet has been attached to your letter, please fill out all forms and send it to the headquarters ASAP!_

_Sincerely,_

_The Daily Prophet Managers_

So now, the Ministry is sending TVs out to everyone, hoping that they will use it. Sheryl needs to pick two people to be sport anchors, and I'm shocked that the Ministry is trying so hard to heal wounds between muggle and magic (Even if the muggles don't know anything about it), when they should be trying to stop Voldemort. But, hey, that's the Ministry for you.

Sheryl comes running in, the packet in her hand. "LILY, LILY, LILY! Did you get the memo?"

"SHERYL, SHERYL, SHERYL! Yes, I did."

"Ha, ha, Lily, I'm excited! I've only seen a TV once, during Muggle Studies, at Hogwarts, and that was a long time ago. Anyway, how would you like to be one of the anchors? We could tape your interviews with James Potter, and have this big sign that says 'THE MAGPIES NEST!" (A/N Sort of like the "Friendly Scoop" with Kevin Millar, for the Red Sox, on Mohegan Sun) she waves her hand, as if placing the letters on a big, invisible board. "If you do, you'd be working with Jarrod Finnigan, you know him? He does the Hogwarts quidditch games."

Sheryl wanted me to do the newscast? That would be awesome! Then I could really be like those reporters for those football games! If I was in Hogwarts right now, I probably would be screaming and giggling.

Actually, I am. I'm screaming AND giggling AND jumping up and down. "THIS IS MY DREAM COME TRUE!" Oh, I feel so light hearted!

* * *

It's almost time for me to start getting ready for the quidditch game; the Magpies against the Appleby Arrows. The Magpies are home; I love home games, there' more of a crowd, more people to please.

I've just apparated to the field. Camera and Crew people are buzzing around setting up the sky cam and the ground cameras.

One of the crew hands me a microphone. "You're on in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!"

"Hello and welcome to Ollivander Field on this beautiful day! I'm Lily Evans, reporting for the Daily Prophet and the Montrose Magpies!

"Today we have the Appleby Arrows versus the beloved Montrose Magpies!

"The Magpies have won 20 games in a row, a National Quidditch League record!

"Justin Crane, referee for the game, has motioned for the captains to lead their teams out!

"For the Appleby Arrows we have: Brian Charron, keeper, also the team captain, Liam Coroner, David Field, and Cassie Bentacourt as chasers! As the two beaters we have Alex Bubba, Pitt N'Cherry! Annnnnnd seeker Beech Branch!

"For the Montrose Magpies we have: Carol Wood, keeper! Steven Cabrera, Mark Breishelheimer, and Aaron McCarrol as chasers! Daniel Pedersen and as a substitute for Sirius Black, we have Kevin Ring as the Magpie beaters! And the team captain and seeker, James Potter!

"And, Justin Crane has released the balls! Arrows in possession of the quaffle. Coroner passes to Bentacourt, who ducks after catching the quaffle, throws it to Field who goes to shoot and oh! Great save by the Magpie keeper, Carol Wood!

"Wood passes to Cabrera who's now forming a V formation with his fellow chasers.

"They're steadily making their way up field, Wood passes to Breishelheimer, who fakes a goal and passes to Ring as he quickly throws it in the hoops.

"10-0, Magpies! It looks like the Magpies are going for their 21st win! Did you know that every time the Magpies score first, they have won? They've also won every time they haven't scored first, so I guess I can't say anything. Heh.

"So Arrows in possession again, but hey! James Potter has gone into dive, closely followed by Branch! Daniel Pedersen is guarding Potter, wow! He just barely whacked the bludger away in time!

"Potter pulls out of his dive! The snitch is safely grasped in his hands! THE MAGPIES HAVE WON THEIR 21st IN A ROW!

"The next Magpie game, next Sunday against the Pride of Portee!

"Stay tuned for the Magpie Nest, coming up with James Potter!"

Cheering has erupted from the stands, as fans pour down from them, black and white colors streaming, as if raining spots. Magpie fans are probably the best you'll ever find.

And just as soon as the came pouring down, they're gone; headed out to party probably. I go to one of the vending machines, put in a Knut and buy a bottle of water.

I walk over to the benches, sit down, and grab a microphone.

Pretty soon the cameras are turned on, and the follow James Potter down his path to his chair.

"Ok! It's time for the Magpie Nest! I'm Lily Evans, for the Daily Prophet, WWMPN! As usually, I'm here with James Potter, star seeker for the Montrose Magpies, who have, just won their 21st game in a row.

"So, 21 wins, 21 snitches, 21's a great number isn't it? How does it feel?"

"We don't really worry about the numbers, we just go out and play. Although, it does feel nice. Hopefully we'll get 22 next week, but you know. You've got to go one week at a time."

"The Pride of Portee, 2 League wins. Pretty good, anything you know about them that you want to divulge to our viewers?"

"The Pride is a very good team, if anyone; they'll be the ones that beat us. I remember that before I was drafted, I wanted either the Magpies or the Pride. Their keeper is exceptional, but I don't know any dirty secrets." He sighed.

I laughed out loud. I went on asking questions about the Pride or Portee and about how they trained, how Sirius Black was doing, since he was taken out of the game because he was sick with the Magic Flu (Which was apparently bad, but I've never had it before, so I don't know).

After the taping, I started to head out, and jumped when someone touched my arm. "Oh, hi" I said to James.

"Hi. I was hoping that someday, like Tuesday or something, if you wanted, we to go get a butterbeer with me at the Leaky Cauldron. Y'know, as friends."

James Potter just asked me out... if I was back in Hogwarts (I've been going back to Hogwarts a lot, I think to myself), I would have said no, but something in his face, in his eyes, that seemed sincere, made me say yes.

I had just said yes to James Potter! And I guess you could call it a date, but we're just going as friends.

As I left the field, I couldn't help but feel excited for Tuesday.


	4. Chapter 4, of Butterbeer and Spaghetti

**ZumZumZoo**: _You could ask if you wanted to, I would like it J. _

**Disclaimer: Oopsies. This is for all the previous chapters that I forgot to put a disclaimer in. I don't own Harry Potter (I wish though). Everything you don't recognize I probably made up.**

Sorry about all the laughing in this chapter… It might sound kind of corny. But, laughter's the best medicine, right? Heh.

_Reporting for the Daily Prophet, Chapter 4, Of Butterbeer and Spaghetti_

I had no idea what I was supposed to wear. That was mainly because I had no idea where we were going.

I know James said the Leaky Cauldron, but he could have meant Hogsmeade or something. It seemed like a spur of the moment idea. We never made final plans.

I'm so confused right now; I can't help but start laughing.

Why should I care what I'm going to wear on a date with James Potter? We're just going as friends; he said so himself.

I pick out a pair of dark blue jeans and a white turtle neck.

As soon as I pulled the shirt over my head, my phone rang, scaring the crap right out of me.

I ran eagerly to my phone, to pick it up. Why would I care so much about a phone call? Truthfully, I don't get many calls at all. I get mostly owls from work. In fact, I had to expand my cage to hold at least more than three owls at the same time. But you know what? That's entirely irrelevant.

"Hello," I say into the receiver.

"Er, hi, Lily! It's James."

How'd he get my number? "Hi!"

"Um, well, earlier on, I was thinking that I would pick you up around 6, but then I realized that I didn't know where you lived. And then I realized again that I had no way of communicating with you, well, I had my owl, but she would have taken too long.

"So, I figured you'd have a phone. And then I was hit with another realization (It was just my day of realizing things… heh). I didn't know your phone number!

"But! Remember the day in Muggle Studies when Professor Hartshorn told us that all telephone booths had telephone books in them, and Sirius asked why would a book have a telephone in them, then set off the fireworks? Well, I did! I was real proud.

"So I set off to the first telephone booth I could find, and I got your phone number!"

That's a novel, ain't it? "Whoa. So I guess you want my address?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what I was aiming at." The voice said on the other end of the line.

"I can do that," I laugh, "its 111 Chrysanthemum Avenue. If you take a left from the Leaky Cauldron, then walk down about 6 blocks from it, you should see a bus stop. Take a right up that street, and then a left about three blocks down. That'd be me."

"Oh, thanks…" there was as pause, "So, is 6 Ok?

"That's fine! So I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah. Uh, bye."

"G'bye."

The line clicked dead, and I put down the receiver. It was 5.30 now. I had half an hour or so before James came.

I grabbed my jacket, and as soon as I finished the last button, I heard a great crash in my living room.

I searched around for my wand and when I felt it (Under my bed, it's been a while since I've used it. I've no idea how it ended up there!) I gripped on to it tightly.

If someone wanted to break into my flat, well, they'd have to get through me first!

I silently crept into the living room, and as soon as I saw the culprit, I sent a mean Funrunculous hex at him. Boils started popping on him all over him.

"Holy shit! What the hell is going on here?"

I then realized that it was James. I burst into uncontrollable laughter, and just barely managed to squeeze out the counter curse.

He had flooed here! I should have known he would do something like that.

He hopped around, trying to regain his balance. "Hello!"

I couldn't manage an answer.

"Aw, c'mon! It's not that funny!!"

"It was," I said, gasping for air and regaining my composure.

"Well, if you say so," He held out his arm, mock gentleman-like, "Shall we get going?"

"We shall," I said, taking his arm.

We walked down to the Leaky Cauldron and entered through the 'portal' to the magic world.

Tom, the bartender, told us to sit anywhere we wanted. We picked a seat in the back, by a service exit, and soon, Tom came up to us.

"What can I get for you two? Oh, hi James! You did great against the Apples! Everyone at the pub wishes you luck. Remember the first time your father brought you here? That was when you got your stuff for Hogwarts. You were so excited!"

"Yeah. I remember, too! We'll have two warm butterbeers please!," James replied to him. Apparently they knew each other well. I've only met Tom once or twice. He wasn't there when I came through, I don't think it was his shift, it was some lady behind the counter. Everyone else knew her too. But, that was in the good old days.

A few minutes later, two frothing hot butterbeers were sitting in front of us. As we started to drink, we talked about things... and Hogwarts.

"So it wasn't you who stepped on my toe?" He asked me.

"No! I wasn't even close to you! That prankfest was totally uncalled for." I remembered that clearly. James thought I had stepped on his big toe on purpose, for when he bumped into me on the train. I didn't want to get close to him (For fear he might crash into me again, I didn't have a good first impression of magic folk), let alone get near enough to step on his toe.

I believe that prankfest was what had sparked our emnity. Our mutual hatred of each other. We kept getting back at each other. And, I have to admit, as much as it was humiliating (For both parties, might I add, while James had his fellow Marauders, I had Mariah, Arabella, and Sabra, three clever masterminds with a combined imagination of well, how would you compare an imagination? They were wicked creative. Let's say that), it was really fun. Sneaking into their dormitories, their bathrooms, putting green goop in their shampoo, turning their books into glop, it was probably the highlight of my life.

But now that I think about it, a stubbed toe was a very stupid reason for creating a school long enemy.

We must have been thinking the same thing, because when our eyes met, we started laughing... and giggling (Like a school girl, which I'm apalled at... kinda) in my case.

I think we must have attracted a lot of attention.

A mass of squealing girls came rushing over. "JAMES! JAMES! Can we have your autograph?"

"OH! MY! GOD! IT'S JAMES POTTER! AHHHHHHHHH!"

James was so surprised, he spilled his drink all over me. I cried out in surprise.

"We have to get out of here!" He yelled to me over all the girls squeals of delight.

I couldn't think with all the noise. I took out my wand, muttered the silencing charm, and I was blessed with the fortune of silence.

The girls hadn't noticed that they had beens silenced.Their mouths were still screaming, even though no sound was coming out. I was disgusted.

"The service entrance," James said.

We hurried over, me shielding James from the girls. Some were trying (Vainly, might I add) to smack a kiss on him. Some missed completely, landing me with a few. I tell you, I'm emotionally and physically scarred. That is not an experience I would care to go through again.

We made it to the door, and just before it slammed shut, I muttered the counter-charm to all those girls. The screaming started up again, but this time, it was puzzled. I couldn't help but feel sorry for those girls, but right now, obsessed crazed quidditch fans weren't my problem. Getting James somewhere safe away from crazy girls was, though.

There's no telling where those girls could have gotten too in Diagon Alley by now, so Diagon Alley was out of the choice. Muggle London being the only one left. We ended up going to my flat, after nearly blowing each other's heads off.

I was sure that James would want to go sight seeing around muggle London. He was sure that he wanted to go to my flat for dinner. But, I gave in, supposing it would be the better thing to do.

No one's head got blown off, which is a good thing... I guess.

So the next thing I know, we're sitting down to a spaghetti dinner.

"I suppose it wasn't a good idea to go out in public without security or in a private room. That's why I never see Tom, because whenever I go out for dinner, I'm always in a seperate dining room."

"That's ok though," I say.

We started small talk and after awhile, I noticed he was having difficulty picking up the spaghetti with his fork. "Having problems?" I asked.

"I've never had spaghetti this uh, slippery," He said, quite confused.

I stared. Never had slippery spaghetti? How can you not have slippery spaghetti? It's like, the qualifications of spaghetti!!

"The house elves always added... stuff, I guess," He said, "It was never this slippery."

Oh. Never this slippery? My mom yellls at me for amking it too sticky... Ok. "Well, I'll teach you how to pick it up."

"There's a way to pick it up?"

"Yes, of course there is. Here, you take your fork, stick it in the middle, no! Don't scoop, just er, stab. Yeah! Great." His fork made a great screech as he 'stabbed' his spaghetti."Now hold your fork like this, and twist it around."

He twisted his fork and the spaghetti came twisting around it.

"Yeah, then you eat it when it looks like a honeycomb. Like right now. It's not too big, not too small."

We finished eating, then settled down into the living room, where James had made his rather er, comical entrance earlier.

We sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. James started flipping through the channels.

After going through every single channel (3 times), James settled on the Wizard of Oz. It was just as good, because I would have blown up if he had gone through another time.

James had a lot to soay on the movie, along with the Wicked Witch of the West, and nearly screamed when he saw her.

By the end of the movie though, no words came out of his mouth.

I glanced over and saw that he had fallen fast asleep, with his head tipped back, droop slightly falling out of his mouth. He looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake him up.

I carefully sat up. I moved him around so he lay lengthwise on the couch. He barely fit, his legs were so long.

I sat down in my big green recliner (It's my favorite chair), and as I started to doze off, I realized that maybe I was wrong to have refused all those dates with James Potter.


	5. Chapter 5, a visit from some Friends

Sorry for the wait, I've been wicked busy lately. I've had barely any time to work on this. I wasn't sure how I wanted this chapter to end, and I'm not sure I like the outcome, but anyway. Then fanfction was put into a read-only mode, so there goes updating for a while. I also have to fix the previous chapter… it's all mangles up :O

Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 5 of Reporting for the Daily Prophet

I woke up to loud knocking on my front door. I stretched; my neck hurt so badly. Why was I sleeping on my recliner? I never do…

The events from last night came flooding back into my head.

I looked over to my couch and saw James in a peaceful slumber, snoring just a bit. I yawned and got up to open my door (The knocking hadn't stopped. How rude can people get?).

As soon as I opened my door I had to quickly sidestep a falling person. Who else but Sirius Black?

"Good morning, Lily," Remus said, gently walking around Sirius and into my living room (Which I guess is now is the center of my "Household.")

"Long time no see!" Sirius picked himself up. He followed Remus.

What scared me the most was not they had arrived on my doorstep, no I was expecting that. I was scared because they knew their way around my flat. It just scared the bajeezies out of me.

So I did the only rational thing I could think of. I followed them.

"We-I," Remus had elbowed Sirius hard, "was just about to know your door down. We thought you two were up to something fierce." He grinned.

I stared. If this was a movie, a bunch of crickets would be playing right now.

"Ok," Remus cleared his throat, trying to break the awkward silence Sirius had created.

"Should I wake him up?" I asked, nodding my head at the figure that had slept through all of this, lying on my couch.

"Nah, that's ok, we want to let him have his rest, right Remmy?"

Remus nodded slowly.

Another awkward silence passed.

This time, it was my turn to break it. "Are you guy's hungry?" That was apparently the right questions because as soon as I asked, Sirius' eyes lit up at the mention of food. Even Remus looked hopeful.

What have they been doing? Starving them?!

"Let's see what I can make for you two." I led them to my kitchen, and at once, Sirius started touching all my cooking appliances.

I turned on my stove and began to boil water for tea. I gave them both a cup.

"You can drink that while I cook. Do you two like scrambled eggs?"

I made pancakes, and bacon, and toast, muffins, oh and bowl of fruit. Plus the eggs.

Between the both of them, they managed to polish off almost everything.

As they began gobbling my food, I started to study them.

Sirius Black had opened up a joke shop in Diagon Alley. I had to do an article on it, way back when.

It was apparently doing well because he was wearing the finest dragon hid jacket available.

Remus, the more laid back of the two, looked to be doing ok. I didn't know what he was doing now, but he seemed to be getting along alright.

He still had those large bags under his eyes, but I suppose he'll be stuck with them for the rest of his life.

He had told me in 3rd year that he was a werewolf, and I didn't doubt it. I mean, for 7 years he was gone once a month and he always came back scratched up. If you put the facts together, it made perfect sense.

Of course, you'd never expect that Remus J. Lupin was a werewolf. He's probably the most level-headed of the three (James, Sirius and him).

At Hogwarts, there were 4 of them: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

While we were at school, Peter was more of a tag along; "using" the other three, as a protection of some sort. If he didn't have those three, he'd have been chewed up and spit out instantly.

He wasn't here now with Black and Lupin, and if he was, I don't think I would let him into my kitchen. I wouldn't feed him; that much I know for sure.

I guess I don't know enough about him to judge Pettigrew, so I guess I shouldn't.

Anyway, those 4 were the resident pranksters. I was usually the butt end of the joke more often than not.

I'll never forgive that stupid person who stepped on James' big toe.

But I can't say that they weren't given they're fair share of pranks.

Nosiree, Mariah, Arabella, Sabra and I made sure of that.

I think it became a tradition for the people eating breakfast to see what each party had done to each other when we came into the Great Hall each morning.

I also think that with those boys coming in to our dormitory at night to create chaos and panic, I am the world's lighted sleeper.

Any unwelcome noise will wake me up with a start.

During all my reminiscing, Sirius and Remus had finished stuffing their mouths.

Sirius waved his hand in front my face, "Yoo hoo! Lily! Anyone home?"

I smiled at him.

At that moment, James came staggering in, "I smelled food."

"Jamesie ole pal!" Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and set him down on one of my kitchen counter chairs, "So nice of you to join us."

"Huh? Oh, hi Lily… LILY?" He jerked his head around, first looking at Remus, then Sirius, then me… Then at Remus, Sirius, and me again. And back to Remus… yeah.

"You're at my flat," I explained, "You fell asleep during the Wizard of Oz."

Realization dawned on his face, "oh."

"Yeah. Maybe you can tell me why Remus and Sirius both appeared on my doorstep? I was quite shocked to find two hungry guys come knockin' on my door."

James turned his attention from me to the two other people sitting in the room.

"They're both fed. Really! What do you three eat at your place? Or do you ever at all?"

James laughed. I think he just really woke up.

"I suppose they came to collect you, but why don't you eat breakfast first?"

Pretty soon, James was sitting down to what was left of the previous breakfast… Which happened to be close to nothing. So I made him a bowl of oatmeal.

And just ask quickly as Remus and Sirius, he gobbled it all up. It made me wonder if his mother knew how he was eating.

He finished eating and the three of them left, with James asking me if I would like to go somewhere else with him sometime soon.

I was left alone, pondering what I should do, when I realized that I only had 5 minutes to get to work. It was, after all, a Wednesday. I quickly changed into fresh clothes and grabbed an apple to eat when I arrived at work.

I apparated to the Prophet building and raced through security; just barely making it on the elevator in time before I would be considered "late." In all my career as a journalist; reporting for the Daily Prophet, I have never been late. I pride myself on being very punctual. Like I said earlier, my mom was a sucker for being early to things.

As the elevator starts to head up, I reminisce about my childhood. I was lucky to have such loving parents, and even though Petunia was horrible to me after we found out I was a witch, I didn't care. As long as my parents were proud of me, well, why should I care what my sister thinks? That was my philosophy anyway, even if it sounds a little crazy.

The elevator dings and I head out, making the journey across the perilous floor of the Editorials and Complaints where owls come zooming through and you're always ducking so not to be attacked by a fur ball with a sharp beak and claws. Pass the Arts & Entertainment section do I go until finally reaching (unharmed) to the small but prospering Sports department.

I walk over to my desk where Jarrod Finnigan, the guy with whom I work with on the telecast version of the Daily Prophet Sports section, is waiting for me. Crapola. I slept in (Then I had the whole breakfast ordeal) and I have just a few minutes before the 7.30 news in the morning. Sports isn't on until 7.45, but still, there's make-up and oh fudge I forgot my notes.

Every weekday, we three telecasts: morning at 7.30, 8, 8.30 and 10 Am. Then at 1 PM do we go again, stating the same things as earlier. Then we have the 5, 5.30, 6, and 6.30 casts to do. After that, we give the floor up to the World News section. Because they're so big, they get to go until 7.30.

Weekends, I have Sports Desk where we go over every major game happening that weekend. Sundays I have the Magpie Nest.

Now that I've stated it, kinda seems as if I don't have any free time to myself. I have little breaks in between each newscast, but that's about 15 minutes. Man, that's one crazy schedule.

But maybe that's why I like it here at the Prophet. Because it's always chaos and hectic. Because I'm always busy. I detest not having anything to do; that's what made this career path so beautiful to me.

Journalism? Beautiful? Hah! Man, with all the Voldemort deaths going about, things are everything but pretty. I'd have to be sick if I thought it was beautiful.

What gets me the most is the people who did get killed, hadn't done anything to Voldemort. And I bet most people didn't know that _Lord_ Voldemort was a half blood. Betcha none of his Death Eaters do. Isn't that a cahoot?

No. But you gotta be optimistic.

So I walk over to Jarrod, he's practically seething. The worry lines on his face were very apparent.

I was just a little late, I've been later before and he's never said anything. Sheesh, he's not my boss, Sheryl is.

"They canceled out show for today," He said.

"WHAT?!" Cancel the sports? You can't do that, people watch the news because of the sports! "WHY?"

"There's been a major attack. Down by the minister's house, it was horrible. They're doing special reports all day. You can go home, that's what I'm gonna do," He said in his thick Irish accent.

I know how hard it was for Jarrod. Everyday he comes from his house in Wicklow, Ireland and I tell you, that's no small feat. Apparating between countries is very difficult, especially so early in the morning when you're not quite awake. To be told that you can't do your job after all that hard work you put into it, it's, well it leaves you speechless, agog, and just plain flustered.

I nod. "Tell Elena that I said hello," Elena was in Ravenclaw, a year under me so I used to tutor her in Charms. She was probably the sweetest person I've ever met.

"I will. Have a nice day (If it could be considered nice)," He walked away, probably trying to get as close to Ireland as he could before apparating there (The closer you were to where you were trying to go, the easier it became).

I was still holding the apple I had picked from my fruit basket earlier, so as I headed out the building, I shot it into the trash. It had gotten all squishy (Which was amazing because I could have sworn they were the freshest bunch out of the grocers) and nasty.

I decided to walk back to my flat instead of apparating. As I said earlier on, I hated that nasal feeling that floats down into my stomach, making me feel like I've just swallowed a powdered poison (Even though I have never had poison, and I don't expect to).

I took my key out of handbag and unlocked my door. I saw my owl Artemis sitting on my perch and decided to send a letter to my three best buds ever: Mariah, Sabra, and Arabella. In my letter I asked them if they wanted to spend the day in Diagon Alley, just hanging out.

About two hours later, the three of them popped into my living room (Which still was kind of messy from the morning). We walked arm in arm around Diagon Alley, stopping at little tinker shops with useless nothing items. Those were the ones I loved the most. Around my room, I had shelves and shelves just filled with little ornaments and souvenirs from my travels, when I had to "report for the Daily Prophet."

Way back when I was working on Front Page. Hehe, back in the good ole days.

At Florean Fortescue's we sat out in the patio area at a small white table, eating ice cream sundaes. "What do you think of all those attacks?" Mariah asked.

"I dunno, I'm getting really worried about my dad. He's always stood tall for what he believed in, and I think he's on Voldemort's hit list. Y'know? But I don't want to stop him for standing up for what's right… Does that make sense?" Earlier in Hogwarts, Arabella didn't need to worry about her family; she was "pure."

At least she didn't have to worry about her _life_. Sabra and I were both muggle-born and always, since the uprising of Voldemort have we been worried for our safety. It's what has made me so bent on reporting the truth about what was happening. But that didn't last, did it? Nope, I was sent to the sports section.

We paid for our sundaes and spent the rest of the day shopping around, trying to get as much happiness from the day as we could.

Because really, the world isn't always pretty, and right now, it's just plain harsh, so be happy while you can, right?

And you never know how long it is gonna last… the peacefulness, that is.

I _know_ that an attack happened real early in the morning; a big enough attack to start an all day special report on it. But still, the people I _love_ (Like my buds) weren't hurt, so you just have to be happy while you can be.


	6. Chapter 6, more serious matters

Reporting for the Daily Prophet, Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I didn't know how I wanted things to happen in the chapter, and I'm not too sure I like the beginning. Beginnings are always hard… at least for me.

**Chapter 6, More Serious Matters**

Thursday and Friday flew by in anticipation of my Saturday date with James. Yes, I am officially going out with James Potter, and I have no qualms with saying it out loud.

Saturday morning was spent at work taping Sports Desk.

When I was walking back to my cubicle (You'd think that with all the hard work I've done, I would at least have gotten an office… but NOO!), I saw James' owl, Hermes, come swooping in.

"6:00 at Madame Rosmerta's. We can spend the evening around Hogsmeade if you want," it read, finalizing our plans for tonight.

James is _such_ a sweetie. He's always sending me flowers and chocolate and letters. His poor Hermes is probably sick of flying in and out of the Daily Prophet headquarters.

"Fine by me," I wrote back on the note, sending Hermes off. Not before giving the sweet owl a treat, though.

I checked over my question list for the game tomorrow against the Chudley Cannons. It's going to be the easiest win in the season. The Cannons haven't won since, well, I can't remember. The Pride of Portree won the last game against the Magpies, ending their 21 game winning streak.

I packed up my stuff and headed down the elevator and out the main entrance.

What I did not know was that it was POURING outside. As soon as I had stepped out of the door, I was sopping wet.

The water from the heavens showed no signs of stopping (Or even letting up), so I decided to run for it. Under awnings I dodged, trying to stay as dry as possible (It was a lame attempt. Really.)

As I rushed into my building, I realized I could have just apparated home. Pah.

I had to dry and change into nice, warm clothes for the night.

I put on a pair of faded, worn jean slacks and white turtleneck with a gray jacket (its cold at night in November). It was similar to the one I had worn on my first date with James. It's funny how your subconscious picks something out that means a lot to you.

And it does have lots of meaning. Not the outfit, the date.

That day (And the ones after) I had found out what a special person James Potter was; how caring, sweet, and loveable he could be.

No matter what happens that day will always be in my heart as one of the happiest days of my life.

I had permanently set up my fireplace to the Floo network, so it wasn't unusual for a head to appear in my hearth (It did give me the heebie-jeebies the first time it happened)

James came tumbling through my fireplace, dusted himself off and we apparated to the designated arriving point at Hogsmeade (Every major tourist attraction site had one, order of the Ministry, Magical Transportation decree #22).

"It's dinner time now. I bet the Three Broomsticks is really busy right now. Why don't we go later after everyone's left?" James asked.

"Sure. We could go down to the town centre, there's a choir there, I think."

We spent a wonderful evening strolling around Hosmeade, holding hands and smiling all the time.

I tell you, James Potter is the only person I know who can hold hands and still look handsome. Well, if you exclude Sirius and Remus; but they're expected too. They're the Marauders for crying out loud.

Anyway, we had a nice dinner at the 3 Broomstick, isolated in a booth by a window.

We've just finished desert and I've realized that all those butterbeers I drank… er, nature has began calling me.

While washing my hands at the sinks, I noticed some of my co-workers talking at the other end of the sinks.

Being the nosy curious eavesdropper that I am, I listened in on their conversation.

To this day, I'm not sure whether what I heard was true.

"You know Lily Evans right? The one who worked on front page, but was move to sports?"

"She has red hair, right?"

My pride and joy.

"Yeah, her. Well anyway, I was heading to the main editor's office, George, yeah, he invited me for tea. You know how he is. The tea was just _lovely_ by the way. I'll tell you about it some other time."

I don't think the girl was at the editor's office for _tea_… If you catch my drift.

"Oh dear, I'm getting off my point. _Anyway_ he had left a paper on his desk with people they were thinking of sacking… you know, in the nearby future. You know how I am, I just _had_ to have a look see, I mean, there could be _valuable_ information on that list.

"Guess whose name was on the list?"

"WHO?"

Even though Miss. Dumb-dumb over there had no clue, I had a pretty clear idea of who was gonna get sacked.

"Why, Lily Evans of course! I don't know _when_ though, I mean she was at the bottom of the list. I guess they could take her off. She is pretty valuable. You know how well she's doing in the sports department. MAN! What I would _die_ for if I had her job. 3 different shows! I only write reports. She must be _rolling_."

If I was rolling in money, would I still be _at_ the Prophet?!

No.

Truth be told, the Daily Prophet is going to the DOGS! I _would_ leave if I could, it would be nice. But I can't.

And now they're gonna SACK me? I helped them _make_ the Prophet what it is today, and they're just gonna blow me OFF?!

3 years; 3 freaking years; 3 years of hard work, overtime and long days. All for what?!

Nothing.

Not one single thing.

Nada

Zip

Zero

I slammed the water faucet shut, grabbed a paper towel and stalked out of the bathroom.

-----------

3 weeks have been gone by. Every single day of those 3 weeks I have been scared stiff.

Where would I go if I got sacked? What would I do? How could I make a living of something other than reporting? There was _no_ way I would go to the Quibbler, or Witch Weekly, no sireebob!

The answer to my perplexing questions came from Hogwarts.

Well, more or less.

It was Wednesday 3 weeks after I overheard that conversation in the loo.

I walked into my flat to find an owl sitting on my kitchen counter.

I untied the note from the owl's outstretched claw and watched as it hooted and flew away.

It read:

_Dear Ms. Evans:_

_I would be honored if you would accept this invitation to Hogwarts tomorrow night at 6._

_It will be an informational meeting concerning the brining down of him who calls himself "Lord Voldemort." I have decided that since the Ministry of Magic is doing very little to stop him and his band of followers that I had should create my own group of persons to do just about everything that the Ministry of Magic isn't._

_If you decide to join, it is mandatory that you come to this meeting. If you choose not to join, your presence is still required so that your memory can be wiped of all information concerning the order._

_I know it seems a little out of hand, buy we cannot afford any blunders._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

There was absolutely no way I would pass up a chance like this.

The letter made me realize one of the most important realizations in my life.

I personally felt that the Ministry of Magic was not doing enough about Voldemort and if nothing was going to happen there, couldn't I do something about it?

Yes.

There was this saying that my sister Petunia (While we were still on good speaking terms) used to say to me: "If you don't like what's being done, or what's not, do your best to do the right thing."

She told me that when I was in grammar school. A playground bully was picking on a boy my age and I was complaining about the bully to my sister.

"And did you just stand there and watch, Lils?"

"What was I supposed to do? I would have gotten beat up if I said anything."

"Would it be worth helping out that boy? I betcha if you stood up to that bully, the bully would get scared. Bullies are the most insecure people."

I had a lot to ponder about that day.

I did stand up for that boy. I stood tall in front of him, blocking the bully's path, and spoke as harshly as I could to that bully. I spoke my mind to him, I did.

I made a bunch of new friends, too; fair weather friends, though.

All but one.

Daniel Pedersen, the little boy who was getting picked on.

Ironically, he got a Hogwarts letter the same week I did.

While we've strayed apart a little at Hogwarts, we've been together through thick and thin. He's on the quidditch team with James.

But, I've strayed from my point.

There's more than one way to take down a playground bully, and in my large playground, I decided to face an even larger bully.

Voldemort

---------

I just signed my name on that forbidding looking piece of parchment.

I, along with those infamous Marauders and my friends, have just dedicated our lives to defeating Voldemort and his sick followers.

James motioned for me to stay after with him.

One by one, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Arabella, Sabra, Mariah, Kinsley Shacklebolt, and a few others filed out of the room.

"Would you like to go on a walk around the grounds?" James asked

"Of course."

Hand in hand we stepped onto one of the floating floats that gently took us down and out of Dumbledore's office.

Out, we walked, onto the castle grounds.

We walked around in silence for awhile, watching the golden sun illuminate the sky and then disappear, only lighting up the back of the surrounding mountains.

If any muggle photographer had seen us at that precise moment, they would have jumped out, taken a snapshot and whisper "Kodak moment."

I smiled at that thought.

"So what do you think?" He asked me.

"Dumbledore said that inside information is always needed. Did he mean Death Eater inside information or Ministry inside information?"

"Both, I suppose. Couldn't help to have either. The Ministry isn't doing too well with dealing with Voldemort. He's getting stronger each passing day."

"You say his name," I stated.

"Who's?"

"Voldemort's."

"Well, yeah. Fear of a name-"

"Only increases fear of the person. I know. I used his name in my articles. I guess that's why I'm getting the slip."

"You're getting sacked?!" Concern almost immediately spread over his face.

"Well, not for awhile… I think." I told him about what I overheard that night in the bathroom.

"So you might not get sacked at all!"

"Yeah, but I kind of wished I could leave the newspaper. It's going to the dogs you know. It's a mess. If I had somewhere else to go, I would. But there isn't another competent newspaper or magazine, right now."

"I was thinking about that also. I mean, what good is quidditch gonna do to help stop Voldemort? What're we going to do, lure him to a quidditch game and then pounce? I don't think so."

There was a lull in our conversation where both of us were off in our own worlds.

"I just wish there was someway to work against Voldemort and get paid," We said at the same time.

We both laughed nervously.

"Oh, look over there." All the Hogwarts students were making their way inside the castle.

"Must be curfew. Shall we leave, my fair lady?"

"We shall."

We walked out to Hogsmeade where I saw a notice to 7th year Hogwarts students and "Those who were interested."

"_The Ministry of Magic wants _YOU_!"_ it read, "_join the Ministry of Magic's auror task force and be a part of serving your community. Protect the people you love and get paid! 3 month training is required. Sign up sheets can be found at the Ministry of Magic and at your town hall. SIGN UP TODAY!"_

"James, read this!"

He came over to the notice board and scanned over the message.

He looked up and our eyes met.

---------

We're the two oldest adults in training. It was kind of embarrassing at first, but James and I got used to it. We're like one big kung-fu family.

As hard work as it is, I think it's pretty fun; rolling and dodging, shooting spells at dummies, it's all hard work.

But hard work always pays off, right?

Of course!

There was a major attack (again) this time directed at the minister himself. He's finally realized the damage Voldemort has and can cause.

Training was reduced to 3 months instead of the usual 6. More people have been coming to try their hand at stopping Voldemort.

It's our last day of training. We are having a bit of a get together (MAJOR SMASH PARTY!) at Daniel's house. He retired from the National Quidditch League (NQL) along with James. Sirius is still playing beater, but he works for the Order. Daniel's becoming an auror just like James and I.

Like I said earlier, through thick and thin.

Mad-Eye Moody has just asked us to stand together for a picture.

"Smile," He growled. It's not like I _couldn't_ smile. I mean, today's the day I make a _difference_.

FLASH

"I'll be sending a copy along to your _new_ desk." No matter how hard he tried, Mad-Eye can't help but feel a special fondness for this group. We were, after all, his first group that he trained; we're his babies in a sense.

"Are you gonna get all teary-eyed on us now, Moody?"

Mad-Eye gave the speaker a hairy eyeball.

Look out Voldemort; you've got one helluva team coming after you. I'd be watching your back if I was you.


	7. Chapter 7, Part I, A little bit of Siriu...

Wow, I can't believe I got so many reviews! They came really quick, too! Thanks a bunch. I've been lost for a few days because my computer had a bunch of spy ware on it and wouldn't work. But, whilst my computer was being stubborn and not working, I've been writing (or trying to. I'd get hit with an idea, write it down, then not know what I wanted after that… slow business).

**man eating plant: **The way I figure it, a lot of time has passed. I figured they had their first date around the start of quidditch (Octoberishy, late autumn, about when the American Football season starts) and then a few games had gone by, so with a game a week, that's 3 weeks. Then there's the next 3 weeks when she lives paranoid about getting sacked, so 5 weeks have gone by already. Then at the end of chapter 6, it's the end of March. So a lot of time _has _passed. Thanks for the review

**Slayer of the Evil Penguins**: Thanks  I would wish you a merry Christmas, too, but it's over. ;)

**Marauder-Magick33**: I'm so glad you like the name Sabra. It's one of my best friend's name and she was wicked excited when I asked her if she'd let me use her name. I love it, too!

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed (This is for chapters 5-6): **man eating plant, daleia, Marauder-Magick33, Ashley, Tanya J Potter, brilliant-author16, scullymulder1234, etcies, Slayer of the Evil Penguins!**

* * *

Chapter 7

So now it's April. We've gotten 3 new recruits and I need to meet them.

One of them is Kristina Kringle. I can't help but fall into the giggles when someone mentions her name. It sounds like something from a Santa Claus fantasy.

But I really do need to meet her. I make it a point to know everyone in our department. Even if it's just a name to a face.

I do have a feeling that Kristina is a good fighter because think of all the taunting she must have had (And probably does now) when she was a kid. I wouldn't be surprised if people still ask her questions without realizing how rude it is. Oh well.

Kristina Kringle. Hehe.

Ok, so I've just introduced myself and I'm wondering what I'm going to say next.

"How long have you been here?" She asks me.

"Just about a month now, we were Moody's first group."

"That must have been nice."

Um, sure…

I think it's time to hand out an offer of friendship. Don't want the enemies to make friends first, do we? "If you ever need help, you can come to me, ok? My cubicle is over by the bubbler. Or just holler."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

* * *

This Sunday my mom is having an Evans family party with everyone who is somewhat related to the Evans family invited. It's going to be big. Usually not everyone can make it, but this year, they can. The only good thing about it is free food.

Or at least, that's what Sirius keeps telling me.

He's never been to an Evans family party then, and that was just what I retorted.

And then, that precise exact moment, my mother walked in and heard our argument.

"Why don't you come to the party and see for yourself?" She asked Sirius, "Any friend of Lily's is a friend to the Evans family. You'll have fun, I promise."

So that's why Sirius is sitting in the passenger seat in my car, while I drive to the Evans family household.

"Cheer up, Lilikins. This'll be the best party you've ever been to. You wanna know why?"

"Please enlighten me, Sirius. I'm just dying to know."

"You must have gotten that sarcastic tone from your father, I'm sure your mother never had to use it. But, I digress. It will be the best party you've ever been to because, drum roll please, _I_ am coming."

I snort.

"I am so sorry you feel that way, Lilyflower, but you must admit, it's true."

"Sirius," I start, "The only reason you are coming, is because of the food. You and food equal a nasty mess, plus humiliation to a certain person who brought you."

"Ok, now hear me out. This isn't the way you should be thinking. The way you should be thinking is that since we're with a bunch of muggles, I can't do magic in front of them. Think of all the jokes I won't be able to pull off because I can't do magic in front of all your family members!"

"Sirius Black, if you thought for a moment that you would get away pulling a prank on one of my family members, you should start writing your will. If the _thought_ of playing one of your harmless jokes goes through your hollow head, I'll bang your head so hard you'll be knocked into next Wednesday!"

"Hey now Lilikins, would I do such a thing?"

I decide to raise an eyebrow instead of answering.

"All right, I swear by my love of pranking that, just for you, I won't pull any practical jokes on your family."

"I'm glad we have an understanding, Sirius. Just remember, anything you do, I'll know."

* * *

I breathed a sigh of relief. Family parties were always so stressful, especially when you're looking after Sirius Black in a muggle house.

The last guests were leaving now, including Petunia with her husband Vernon the Plum. How any one could be that size without blowing up amazes me!

I was looking forward to spending some quality time with my dad. My Uncle Pete had sent a tape of the last Boston Patriots game and I wanted to watch it.

Sure enough, as I helped my mum wash the leftover dishes (using magic to speed it along), my dad came in and asked to borrow me and Sirius for awhile.

Mum, knowing exactly what we were going to do just gave us a smile and shoved me out of the kitchen while I took the charms off of the plates that had finished cleaning themselves.

I could tell my dad was excited to show someone new the game of American football and I was pretty sure Sirius would like it. I mean, he played beater on the quidditch team, so he must like contact sports.

"Sirius, sit down on the couch. We're going to watch a game called football. Or rather, American football. Have you ever heard of it?"

I swear, my dad was about to bounce off the walls.

"I've heard of it, but I've never seen it."

"Well, then that's perfect! Alright then, we'll teach you the basics. Basically the point of the game…" My dad went on and on, explaining the rules of the football game, which player played where, why they played there and other rules, like face-masking, delay of game and some other major penalties.

My dad started playing the tape and I could see that _instantly_ Sirius was hooked. I settled in the couch and took a sip of tea from my mug.

So the third quarter just ended and the commercials have come on. We've never fast-forwarded the commercials; my dad LOVES to see what's on the American market. A commercial for car parts has just come on.

"That reminds me, Lily. Would it be possible for you to get some new wind shield wipers for me? The ones I have now are wearing out."

Oh great; A chance to go to the car part store. Whoopee!

"Sure dad, we can go after we leave, it's on the way home."

"That's nice Lily."

* * *

"So Lily, where are the wind wipers?"

"Wind _shield_ wipers, Sirius! Wind _shield_ wipers. Honestly Sirius, did you ever pay attention during Muggle Studies? No wait, don't answer that."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He was staring behind my head at the wall… or not the wall, but a poster.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Oh, those?" I said, pointing to the poster of the motorbikes, "Those are motorbikes; Loud, polluting, nasty little things."

"Can we go see 'em? Please, please, please?"

I weighed my options. Sooner or later, Sirius was going to go to the motorbike dealership… How he got there and what he did there would- well, it's a muggle store so… I decided someone should show him the proper way of going and looking at things in a muggle store.

So now we're driving to the motorbike dealership.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you one, Lily."

"I know you do Sirius, I know."

As soon as we step out of the car, a salesman comes over and starts showing us all these different models. Pretty soon, I realize all the motorbikes the salesperson is showing us all can fit two people.

"Do you have any that are for just one person?" I ask.

"Of course! I just assumed that you two would need a two-seater because you arrived together."

Sirius began to snicker so I punched him in the arm, "Ow!"

The salesperson herded us over to the other side of the display room and, the first bike he showed us, I could tell Sirius had found his true love.

"Would you like to buy it?" The salesperson asked.

I could tell Sirius really wanted to, but for once, his common sense seemed to break through its locked cell that was Sirius' brain. There was no way he could use a muggle motorbike in the wizarding world when he could apparate.

* * *

It's been days later, I still can't get the image of Sirius' face when we left the shop.

So, now that James has just suggested that we go look for a birthday present for Sirius, I'm hit with the smartest, most brilliant plan I've ever concocted.

"Let's go," I say to James, "I have the perfect idea."

* * *

Sirius Black was, well, to say the least, disappointed with his gift from James and Lily. I mean sure, small things are great, but what Sirius really wanted was big, really big.

But, being best mates with James, all he could do was say, "Thanks, it's just what I wanted," as he opened the package and found a gift certificate to Honeydukes.

Was his best friend so dull that he couldn't figure out what his best mate wanted in the whole wide world?

And Lily was supposed to be the smart one. How could she have not seen his face when he realized he couldn't get the motorbike?

What could he do, though?

Lily and James were the last ones at the party and Sirius decided he should go over to talk to them.

"There you are, Sirius! I thought we'd never get to speak to you alone," Lily jumped off of the couch she was sitting on with James and gave him a hug, "Happy birthday!"

"Come on, it's getting really hot in here, why don't we go outside for a walk. I'm sure you would want some fresh air, Sirius."

James stood up on Sirius' right, while Lily was on his left. Together they directed him out of the house and out into the driveway.

"What are we doing here?" Sirius asked, "What's going on?"

"Just wait Sirius. Close your eyes and plug your ears."

"Ok. Who are you, and what have you done with my mate and his girlfriend?"

"Just do it, Sirius."

Sirius really thought James had gotten his brain switched with a primate. He was certainly acting like a chimp. And Sirius knew that chimps could get violent, so he had better comply with James/chimp's wishes if he wanted to get out of this _predicament_ alive or not hurt.

So, with his eyes closed and his fingers half plugging his ears, Sirius heard Lily mutter a revealing charm and say, "I know you can hear me Sirius. You can open your eyes now."

Sirius opened his eyes and stared straight ahead.


End file.
